Tag: 2021

vivid is may
all those
five
point
five
years
ago.
layered over now
with flowers enameled
to a hard polish.
my life. the life i built.
i couldn't scratch the
surface of yours not with
my bone brittle finger-
nails.
i tried.
i daydreamed. could
i belong? could
i be a part of your
family? odd as
i am? as unlike you as
i am? your answer
blew cold in every
direction, every shutting
down, every shutting
out.

i can't belong if
i don't conform if
i can't stay silent if
i don't mouth the party
line. welp. i
couldn't i
wouldn't i
didn't 

and

you turned that
label inside
out. who am i?
nothing of yours.

i won't be cruel.
i won't be bitter.
you were right about
some things. there wasn't
enough love there for me.

my friends say not to think
about what you might say if
you could see what i've built,
who and how i love, where i work,
what i do. why should your opinion matter?

you summed it up in that ice
blue icing, written in those
whorled words, you're

you wrote

'You're a
shitty
sister.'

most people, i think, are born into their
families. the rest of us have to find them.

i found mine.

who's to say

who has the luckier
heart?

March 11, 2021

i'm the dandelion of
empty buses and
mildewed picnic tablecloths the

butter yellow polka dotted
dust storm side-eye in
winter boots on the
first of July the

milk-beaded hollow of one
million individual hairs sliding
like copper rods through balding
half-moon fingernails the

smeary grass-stained window
flash of rubberized earth-
worm ribbons the

five-finger pixie parachute
in the porch roof gutter
clog the

solitary sunny none
flower of ragged
brittle lady
balm the

brainless lion's
nodding noggin the

headless high
king's skinned
knees the

bare maraschino
in the

done
day.

March 5, 2021

dogwood simple as
a dog rose old
ivory burnt
crumpled
apple green
eye on the
understory
parasol filtered
sunbeam
milk yellow
gray sketch of
finger
branches fine
and gracile
upraised be-
neath sky high
tulip and sycamore
alone with airy hemlock
and box over nurseries of
oak and maple and a much loved
neighbor of spring cherries
and wild grape in a skirt
of cabbage and woodsy
winterberry hiding
dogwood's secret
in the leathery
promise of
orchids.

February 25, 2021

what's your gender
fender bender?

what's your
pro-
nouns? your
post-
modern
apocalyptic
triptych
she-heeeee
her him thay
what are you
GAAAAAAY?

bendy
enby
all in
outtie

i got a mister sir
with hippy dippy
long hair
and hips i
couldn't hide in
baggy pants

i got a Real Woman
screaming at me in
a bathroom (excuse
me) a ladies room
'cause i failed
that defining
definition of
WOMANHOOD in
all three
dimensions

i got a father a
brother a sister a
friend a stranger
a whole army
saying man man man
aren't you a
lesbiAN?

butch i'm no butch
it's a trademarked
subculture i've got
no business never
minding
and

any-
who spends a year
shuffling paperwork to
become a nobody by
another name? a
funny name is
that your REAL
name? are
you
a
real
person?

a woman a
man?

a somebody to
anybody out
there?

don't accommodate
me i'm no
pussy call me
he she her him hi hello
Hiawatha
call me Al
call me a monkey's
uncle nobody calls
me aunt any-
more

i'm me meaning
nothing symbolizing
nothing representing
nothing for forty-
seven
years of
trans verse
psychosis
between body and
boy-woman-girl-man

an ugly compromise
hiding an
inner oasis of
self-
love and

peace

i'm not here
to play politics or
pound a square peg into
a see-man-tic
merry-go-round

i'm not here
to demand you
understand

i'm not like
you

i'm not like
them

i've got what i want
i'm who i want
to be

i'll die
knowing i
never wanted
to change

one

damn

thing.

February 24, 2021

unaware i was
of what a mother
does,
only carried on
in bored distraction
'til
i saw
that glow of
fond regard that
pride and measure of
devotion twice reflected
in return and knew my
friend a daughter loved
and too a mother cherished.

February 23, 2021

ink trees pour
down quilted
aluminum
sky
into a
black river
rib-cage morning
of salt spray
and white
peach
bruises on
the tattered
end of the
last bright
dream of
winter.

February 23, 2021

pretty angel
in white robes
sitting
styrofoam on
green bough
glitter
gold
tinsel
crown in
a mouth of
pins and
silver.

pretty angel
in falling
dust a
deep breath.

in
silence.

pretty angel
under
glass. wings
of steel
in clockwork
motion
arise

and
greet the sun.

February 22, 2021

the gator go
getter playing
husband and
father
old sage from
a twenty-year
old scars and
broken bones and
arthritis and
those beautiful
deep set brown
eyes when he says

i don't know if
they love me

and my heart
breaks in my
old ugly narrow
chest because
i can't make it
right,
because
i can't make him
see
the grace of his
words and his actions,
the power he has
to comfort, to
be an example, to
sacrifice, to
step up as a
husband, a
father,
blindly
to be a man in
an era of
exploited
manhood.

i can honor
him only
by listening.

i can honor
him only by
remembering.

February 22, 2021

dancing bear wants
your eyes
she whirls in
her tutu
on her
tip toes
her cheeks
full
between
teeth
half-lidded
gaze
mesmerizes
look, look
the entertainer
the sooth-
sayer
the giddy
girl
the priestess
the princess
shake, shake
lips split
spilt
never ending flow
fills the sound of
a voice a
caress a
cascade of
never ending
spin, spin
look, don't
look, don't
look away
your eyes
she needs
they can't
fill the
void.

February 22, 2021

when i hold that
molten light
between my palms
i wonder if that golden
balm was netted in ancestral
fingers to soothe away
the fear of never ending
winter with the primal
warmth of the memory
of dawn.

February 9, 2021